Tales from the Sohoku Road Racing Club: Youkai of the Sohoku Dorms
by Die Einzelganger
Summary: Yowamushi Pedal AU where instead of joining Hakone Academy, Arakita Yasutomo enrolled in Sohoku High School, where he turned the lives of everyone around him upside down - for better or for worse. Depends on who you ask and at what time, really, and it just so happens that Onoda Sakamichi decided to ask Makishima Yuusuke. (Originally posted on Ao3.) Part 3 of this AU.
1. I

As the sun rose on the second day, Onoda began to pursue his next target, curiosity gnawing at his heart.

"Arakita-san..! Arakita-san, wait up..!"

"Ah, if it isn't Onoda-chan," Yasutomo flashed a grin behind his back, though his pace did not slacken in the slightest. "What do you want, huh? You wanna race me?"

Onoda raised his cadence. "Um, it's about last night… I was wondering, if you could tell us about yourself, I mean, about yourself as the Youkai _—_ "

" _Who you calling Youkai?!"_ snapped Yasutomo. Onoda yelped.

" _I'M S-SO SORRY! PLEASE TELL US, YOUKAI_ _ **-SAN!"**_

" _ **THAT'S EVEN WORSE, DAMN IT!"**_

* * *

"Please..?"

"Nope."

" _Arakita-san..!"_

"Not happening."

"But, last night you said you would explain!"

" _Haaah?_ I said no such thing."

"Y-You literally said, _I'll explain some other time!"_

"Nope! Don't remember it, therefore it didn't happen."

" _But..!_ That's like saying half of your training camp didn't happen because you don't remember it!"

" _Exactly._ You're a fast learner, Onoda-chan! I'm so proud," Yasutomo's fingers slipped to his gear shifters. "Now if you don't mind, I'm gonna—"

"You're right, Arakita-san.." sighed Onoda, eyes twinkling. "I'm sorry for bothering you.. I'll go talk to Makishima-san instead…"

Yasutomo choked, face growing hot.

" _Alright,_ _ **alright,**_ _ **FINE!"**_

* * *

"Arakita… do I even have to ask?" grumbled Tadokoro, hands propped on his hips as he nodded towards the first-years perched in a row, squirming with excitement.

"They're here for their bedtime story, _duh,"_ Yasutomo rolled his eyes.

"But why are they sitting on _my_ futon?!"

"You're the one who snitched on me, so this is payback!"

Tadokoro huffed. "Fine! I'm gonna take _your_ futon, then!"

"Go ahead! I'll just share with my _boyfriend,"_ Yasutomo flashed a syrupy grin at Yuusuke, who clicked his tongue, but made no effort to hide his smile.

" _Gross couple,"_ Tadokoro shook his head, chuckling.

* * *

In another minute, Teshima and Aoyagi joined them and settled on Kinjou's futon, completing the ensemble. Yasutomo groaned.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," he kept his eyes on Yuusuke's hair, brushing those mile-long locks with a practiced hand. Yuusuke laughed.

"And you teased _me_ for being unable to say no, sho. What's this, then?"

"I was cornered, dammit! Onoda-chan was _ruthless!"_

The culprit rubbed his nose, giggling sheepishly. Yuusuke smothered laughter.

"Well, come on, then! We can start from when I first visited you, sho."

"When you brought me notes and I punched the Scourge of Sohoku?"

"Yeah."

" _Aight…"_


	2. II

Training camp was followed the very next day by compulsory make-up lessons, attended by all except for Yasutomo. The moment his absence dawned on Yuusuke, a strange emptiness crept inside his chest. However, his penmanship and listening skills mysteriously improved for the next several hours, until he managed to produce a stack of notes fit even for others to read… and one person in particular…

"Man, I'm so beat," yawned Tadokoro as they left the classroom at last. "Saturday classes are the _worst!"_

"How would _you_ know, sho? You slept through most of them, Tadokorocchi."

Tadokoro clicked his tongue, then flashed a good-humored smile.

"I knew I could count on you and Kinjou to pay attention where I couldn't," he winked at Yuusuke. "Care to share your notes with me?"

"I'm.. I guess you can have a copy… I was going to photocopy them anyway, sho…" Yuusuke scratched his cheek.

"Oh? Were you planning to give a copy to Arakita-kun, then?" chimed in an oblivious, smiling Kinjou. Yuusuke choked.

"I-It's only because he's an idiot and got himself sick, sho! If he had been here and slept through class, I wouldn't have bothered at all! _What makes you think I would?! I'm just being responsible! It's not weird to bring him notes when he's sick,_ _ **is it?!"**_

"No, it's.. normal…" mumbled Kinjou as Tadokoro turned away to hide his grin, not to risk ending up with no notes at all.

Once Yuusuke made two copies and relinquished one to Tadokoro, he excused himself and hurried off to the dorm, cheeks pink and his heart hammering. _Courage, Yuusuke..!_ he spurred himself on his way to the first floor… where he promptly froze as he harked back to yesterday's bizarre discovery.

Hot coils of incense fume wafted through the air, spouted by a burner placed on one side of what he believed might be Yasutomo's door. A few students sat on floor pillows nearby, a cooler beside them, all activities suspended as they hung their eyes on Yuusuke like sentries. Yuusuke cleared his throat, squinting from the smoke scratching at his eyes.

"Um, I'm here to see Arakita Yasutomo, sho. I brought him class notes, sho…"

Their eyes narrowed, as if struggling to decipher his words. Yuusuke swallowed.

"We're in the same club, sho. The road racing club? I'm Makishima.. Yuusuke, sho…"

They now exchanged glances and murmurs. One nodded and the others shrugged, apprehensive.

" _Good luck,"_ they gestured to the door. Yuusuke tensed, but closed the distance, insides squirming. He paused at the sight of a large, handmade disease recovery charm dangling from the doorknob, the biggest omamori he had ever seen.

"Arakita..?" he knocked, cracking the door ajar. "It's me.. I brought—"

A sudden shove and Yuusuke stumbled aside as feeble protests broke out behind his back. His eyes widened at a pompadoured yankee in a decorated jacket, sneering at him.

" _Outta my way,"_ the guy kicked Yasutomo's door open and marched in, ignoring Yuusuke and the growing commotion outside.

* * *

"You must be the _Youkai,"_ the intruder towered over his bed as Yasutomo lurched upward like a flimsy rag doll. "I gotta say, I expected someone tough, not a snot-nosed first-year brat! You know who I am, _boy?_ I'm second-year Oginawara Takeshi, the Scourge of Sohoku, and I'm sick and tired of everyone comparing _**me**_ to a little shithead like _you._ They said you went away this week to get stronger, but look at you! Crushing you right now will be like squashing a cockroach…!"

"… _ass,"_ murmured Yasutomo. Oginawara's nostrils flared.

" _What did you say?!"_ he leaned in, menacing. Yasutomo's teeth flashed.

" _ **I SAID,**_ _ **DON'T GET AHEAD OF YOURSELF, DUMBASS!"**_ he howled, and all Yuusuke saw from his cover was Yasutomo's former pitching arm bolting high as Oginawara reeled backwards and collapsed against the opposite wall. Crimson drool oozed onto the floor, pooling around a cracked wisdom tooth that no longer required surgical removal.

Yasutomo lowered his arm to half mast, fist still clenched and eyes raining lightning as he rose from the bed. Oginawara cowered, writhing.

"You think just 'cause I'm feeling under the weather, you can come to my turf and disrespect me, _huh?!"_ Yasutomo took the floor, voice shrill as barbed wire. "I eat petty scum like you for a _snack,_ 'cause you're the lowest link in the goddamn food chain, you're _nothing!_ I was once like you for a week, tops, and then I changed my mind and now I'm powerful, while you're just a greasy pompadour and a fractured jaw! How do you like _that_ comparison, _huh?!"_

Oginawara whimpered, a hand cradling his bloated cheek. Yasutomo dropped his fist.

"Be glad that's all you got this time, Oginawara. Consider this your chance to redeem yourself someday. Now you clean that mess off my floor and get outta here… and if you set one more toe out of line in this school, I'll bury you where no one'll come looking. You hear me? _Huh?"_

Oginawara slipped a trembling hand into his jacket. After a long moment, he tugged out a white linen handkerchief, dabbing at the floor till the tooth and splatters were gone. He then shambled into the hallway, past the sentries and down the stairs, to the nearest hospital.

Silence fell, then Yuusuke heard a series of gasps - Yasutomo dry-heaving. In a moment, the sentries rushed into his room.

" _You were incredible, Youkai!" "Do you need medicine, Youkai?" "Here's a Bepsi!" "Do you want anything else, Youkai?"_

"This'll do… I need to rest now.. off you go…" slurred Yasutomo. They fidgeted.

"Um, Youkai..?"

" _What."_

"Someone else is here to see you…"

Yuusuke poked his head in. Yasutomo twitched.

" _Makishima?!"_ he blurted. Yuusuke flushed.

"I.. I brought you notes, but maybe I should leave, sho…"

"N-No, no, come in..!" Yasutomo shifted, making room on the bed. "Sit, okay..?"

The sentries gave Yuusuke awed glances as they closed the door. Yasutomo sighed.

"I should.. probably explain, huh."

Yuusuke nodded, then scooted next to him, heart humming.

* * *

The power of suggestion, Yasutomo found, was a force to be reckoned with.

After all, it was the suggestion of having become useless to his middle-school team that spurred Yasutomo to throw his equipment in the trash and strip his room of all baseball paraphernalia, until it yawned eerily devoid of passion or personality, a perfect resemblance of its hollow, burned out owner.

It was the suggestion that mere bicycles could easily outstrip a moped on downward slopes that consumed Yasutomo's addled mind, until he found himself wandering inside _Cycle Shop Kanzaki_ to stare inquisitively at drop handlebars and slick carbon frames.

It was Miki-chan's suggestion that a strong will and a perfectly matched road racer could take even a has-been like Yasutomo to the top that had him calling his parents within the hour, willing to sacrifice his beloved moped for a second chance and a brand new Bianche. (In turn, enthralled by his excitement, his mother told Yasutomo to consider it his late birthday gift, and keep the moped. _Work hard, son..!)_

And finally, it was the suggestion that Yasutomo possessed, by his razor voice and feral looks, greater power than your average high-schooler that convinced Yamada Yasuhiro, an easily impressionable first-year, that Arakita Yasutomo harbored a dangerous demon, who had to be appeased before he might destroy the Sohoku dorms.

In hindsight, it was probably wrong of an enraged Yasutomo to howl, in the middle of the hallway on the very night he moved in,

"IF YOU BASTARDS DON'T SIMMER DOWN SO I CAN GET SOME REST, SO HELP ME **I WILL BURN THIS ENTIRE DORM TO THE GROUND!** _ **YOU CAN YELL AND MAKE NOISE ALL YOU WANT, ONCE WE'RE DOWN IN HELL!"**_

Unsurprisingly, the rumors started shortly after that.

" _He's not human." "I'm telling you, he's a youkai!" "Shut up, he'll hear you..!"_ they whispered to each other whenever Yasutomo passed by, as if he couldn't smell their terror from miles away.

 _Don't worry,_ he thought to himself on his second night, _I will drop out soon enough anyway…_

But then that impromptu race down the school's super slope happened. On his way back from buying groceries, _Cycle Shop Kanzaki_ and Miki-chan happened… and on the fourth night, Yasutomo returned with freshly purchased road racing equipment, including a bicycle helmet that refused to fit over his hair.

" _Oi, you bastards!"_ Yasutomo stepped outside, all attention fixed on him at once. "Anyone got scissors?"

"W-What kind?" someone mumbled. Yasutomo shrugged.

" _Any._ Large ones if you got 'em. _You got 'em or not?!"_

In a moment, Yamada scrambled off and brought a pair of brand new craft scissors.

"H-Here, Youkai..!" he held them out, then yelped as Yasutomo snatched them away, brow quirked.

" _I'll be right back,"_ he slammed the door in their faces, scissors snapping.

Ten minutes later, Yasutomo stepped out choppily sheared and remarkably relaxed. The others gawked.

"Are you alright..?" mumbled Yamada, eyes fixed on Yasutomo's forehead.

"I feel _powerful,"_ replied Yasutomo.

They nodded, shivering.

* * *

Yasutomo merely referred to having taken another step towards a brighter future, of course. However, to a hive mind already infected with superstition, the Youkai apparently declared that he had breached the seal of his infernal power by cutting off Arakita Yasutomo's horn, as Yamada used to call his pointed pompadour. Having hacked his mortal host, the demon had finally become unbound, and unless they managed to appease the Youkai, it was only a matter of time before the Sohoku dorms went up in flames of vengeance.

The next day, right after classes, Yasutomo got his first taste of Shiraiwa's punishment-driven regimen for delinquent amateurs. After two hours on the rollers and three laps around the road racing club's regular short-distance course, he returned to the dorm drenched in sweat and smouldering… to find a large group of dormmates, all ages and genders, fidgeting by his door.

" _What._ What do you want," muttered Yasutomo, exhausted to the point where his reaction fell from _blood must flow,_ to _more curious than annoyed._

"What do you want from _us,_ Youkai?" Yamada stepped forward, his hands clasped around a burning candle. Yasutomo quirked his brow. "How can we appease you?"

"I want a Bepsi," Yasutomo replied without missing a beat. "A cold one."

Murmurs broke out. _"Get the Youkai a Bepsi!" "Do you have any change?" "How much?!"_

One of the guys hurried off with a fistful of change. Yasutomo whirled around.

" _It had better be a Bepsi!"_ he shouted after the delivery boy. "You bring me a Cole and _I'll kill you!"_

He soon received an ice cold Bepsi, and downed it in one draught as they watched, trembling in anticipation.

" _Aaah,_ this hit the spot," purred Yasutomo, his features finally mellow. They sighed, relieved.

" _Are you pleased, Youkai?" "Shall we bring more, Youkai?"_

"Do whatever you want," Yasutomo scratched at his scalp. "But I'm gonna take a bath now, so don't bother me. _Oh!_ And one more thing…"

They stared at him, breath held. Yasutomo forced his features calm.

"I don't mind this thing you've got going on here. It's all in good fun, right? But you had better not be doing any of this shit at school. _You got that?_ What's my real name, _huh?"_

" _Arakita Yasutomo,"_ they replied as one. Yasutomo's shoulders slackened.

" _Good._ That's my name while I'm in class, is that clear? You call me anything else while I'm at school and I'll kill you. During normal hours, I'm just _Arakita Yasutomo."_

"Can we refer to you as the Youkai if we don't reveal your true identity?" asked someone from the crowd. Yasutomo gave him a look.

"You trying to find loopholes, _pal?"_ he bared his teeth. _"You wanna go, huh?!"_

The crowd twitched backwards as fear burst from them like a tidal wave of raw sewage. Yasutomo rubbed his nose, then grabbed the doorknob, eyes pinched shut.

"Just don't do anything stupid, you bastards. I'm finally on track, and no one's gonna take this from me."

* * *

As per his request, everyone gave Yasutomo a wide berth while he was at the bath. However, the very moment he stepped out in a shirt and shorts, he bumped into two students on their way to the kitchen.

" _Watch it!"_ Yasutomo snapped at them, then blinked as he noticed their cargo. "..What you got there? Eggs..?"

"Y-Yeah," breathed one of the boys, cradling the carton to his chest. "W-We wanted something to go with our rice, and eggs should be pretty easy to—"

" _Haaah?!"_ Yasutomo leaned in, eyes flashing. "What's this about eggs being _easy? Are you underestimating eggs?!"_

" _N-No, Youkai!"_ they bleated, hands trembling. Yasutomo snatched the carton away.

"Nice pair of dumbasses you are!" he growled as they clutched their heads in terror. "Just 'cause eggs are simple things, you think you can't fuck up, _huh?_ I bet you thought, _hey,_ we'll just stick 'em in boiling water and call it a day! _Are you stupid?!_ _ **You wanna eat stringy, joyless eggs, huh?!"**_

" _ **WE'RE SO SORRY!"**_ they slammed onto the floor, palms on the ground. Yasutomo clicked his tongue.

"Well, you're in luck, you bastards," he carried on, softer than before. "I'm kinda hungry myself, so I'll show you how it's done."

Yasutomo then shuffled past them to the kitchen, where he set to work three eggs at a time, until he produced two plates of soft, runny scrambled eggs.

" _Oi, you bastards!_ Your eggs are—" he turned around, to find over a dozen guys hovering by the dinner table, eyes large and chopsticks ready. _"…done…"_

Stunned, Yasutomo slowly pushed the plates towards them, watching in growing frustration as they picked them clean within seconds.

" _There's too many of you bastards!"_ he brandished his spatula. "There's no way ten eggs are gonna be enough!"

"We can get more, Youkai!" a boy raised his hand. Yasutomo groaned.

"Well, _get them then_ so I can keep cooking!"

With that, Yasutomo turned around to fix another plate… then another, and another, until he had made scrambled eggs no less than ten times. Just as he finished the sixth batch, a new carton appeared seemingly out of thin air, and by the time Yasutomo claimed the last portion for himself, the number of people fed went from the original two, to a total of twenty-four, including five girls from the neighboring building.

A few hours later, everyone retired with the conviction that they had been blessed by the Youkai… and the power of suggestion increased tenfold.

By morning, Yamada's acne vanished, Fujiwara found his missing keys, and Miyasaki's breasts grew an entire inch. Awestruck dormmates roamed the halls everywhere, whispering of dreamless sleep, weight loss, newfound inspiration, and good news from home.

Some cried. All rejoiced… and none doubted anymore.

That evening, when Yasutomo returned to the dorm from training, he found an offering by his door, covered in thank you notes: a brand new cooler stuffed with ice packs and cold bottles of Bepsi, conveniently restocked whenever Yasutomo took some.


	3. III

"…And that's the story of how I accidentally started a cult by the end of my first week," drawled Yasutomo, expression deadpan as he tressed Yuusuke's hair into several locks. "And _what a story it was._ Now go to bed, you brats, I'm tired."

" _W-What?!_ _No,_ we can't go! I have too many questions!" cried Naruko.

"Like _what?"_

"Like, how did you get rid of that one guy's acne?"

" _I DIDN'T!"_ snapped Yasutomo. "Weren't you paying attention?! They did all that to themselves! I was just _uh,_ a, _umm…"_

"Placebo, sho?"

"Yeah, _that._ Aww, _Yuusuke,_ you're so _smart."_

Yuusuke snorted.

* * *

"Okay, another question!" Naruko flourished a finger. "Are you telling us they called you a demon _to your face,_ and you just _accepted it?!"_

" _Yeah?!"_ shrugged Yasutomo. "I was used to it, okay?! My own sisters have been calling me _Monster Face_ since they could talk, so I thought _Youkai_ was just some cool nickname these guys came up with, and by the time I realized, it was kinda late to argue, you know?"

"…Why _Monster Face..?"_ mumbled Sugimoto, obviously shaken. Yasutomo rolled his eyes.

"Because I'm ugly and mean-looking. _Duh."_

Yuusuke gave him a knee rub. Yasutomo's features softened.

* * *

"Um, and what happened afterwards, Arakita-san?" spoke Onoda.

"You wanna hear _more..?"_ groaned Yasutomo, immersing himself in Yuusuke's steadily forming hairdo. "What's so great about me being a freak at the dorm, huh?"

" _ **Everything!"**_ squealed a starstruck Naruko. Onoda giggled.

"Is this why you never told us you lived at the dorm?" asked Teshima.

"Yeah, and I never told anyone else at the club, either," replied Yasutomo. "I still have no idea how Yuusuke found out. Seriously, _how?"_

Yuusuke scratched his cheek, flushed pink.

" _Accidentally,_ sho..?"

Tadokoro coughed _crush_ into his fist. Yuusuke ignored him, but Yasutomo cracked a grin.

* * *

"But, to answer Onoda-chan's question, I just played along," shrugged Yasutomo. "They got me a cooler full of Bepsi, so I used it. They asked me to bless their stuff or make them eggs, and I did it. They paid me to smell them, so I told them about themselves. And when they came to me with problems like Oginawara, I sorted things out. You know. Youkai stuff, I guess."

"He also helped out with our first cultural festival," smiled Yuusuke. "We were dating by then, so I got to watch him be the Youkai, sho."

" _So cool..!"_ breathed Onoda.


	4. IV

"And there you have it," Yasutomo concluded his tale of horror to a bewildered Yuusuke, who hardly knew how to react, let alone untangle the Gordian knot of his feelings for Arakita "Youkai" Yasutomo. Yasutomo expected no response, however. He paused, then simply added, his voice dull,

"Makishima.. thanks for bringing me notes, but I don't want you to come here anymore. Don't tell the club, either. This has gotten way out of hand as it is, and I don't want Shiraiwa or the others finding out. If they did, I might get expelled for being a freak, you know?"

His heart clenched, but Yuusuke nodded, staring bleakly into space. _This is all on you, Yuusuke,_ he scolded himself, teeth gritted. _Serves you right for thinking that… that he…_

"Makishima..?"

 _Was normal. Would be happy to see you._

 _It was weird to bring him notes after all.._ _ **Damn it!**_

"I'm sorry I came here, sho," the words tumbled out half-baked, and not knowing how to drag them back or rearrange them into something palatable, Yuusuke shoved his stack of photocopied notes into Yasutomo's hands without another glance. "Here are your notes. _Goodbye, sho!"_

Yuusuke then whirled around before Yasutomo could protest, fleeing faster than the Scourge of Sohoku.

Thanks to his dormmates' combined efforts, Yasutomo returned to school on Wednesday. He received no more visits in the meantime, though Kinjou did call him to offer his notes… yet when Yasutomo and Yuusuke finally met at the clubroom, and grasping for an apology, Yuusuke blurted out, _Do you need my notes, sho..?_ , Yasutomo said yes at once, secretly relieved as Yuusuke's scent softened from bitter anxiety to an oddly pleasant sweetness.

It wasn't until they started dating in earnest that Yasutomo truly made amends for his _faux pas;_ but when the moment came, he did it very handsomely. At the time, the club cancelled their entire weekly practice in favor of preparing for the cultural festival, so on Monday afternoon, Yasutomo pulled Yuusuke aside, kissed him and said,

" _Yuusuke.._ come with me, okay?"

Yuusuke hummed as Yasutomo grabbed his hand and coaxed him in the direction of the dorms. Only when the buildings swam into view did he make a half-hearted attempt to escape, countered instantly by a perceptive Yasutomo.

"It's _okay,_ Yuusuke," Yasutomo squeezed his hand. _"I want you here."_

Yuusuke blushed, his stomach doing flip-flops as Yasutomo guided him to the first floor, where a large group of students bustled by his door.

They hushed at once. Yasutomo gestured to Yuusuke.

"Everyone… this is _Makishima Yuusuke._ Say hi to Yuusuke."

They murmured and bowed. Yasutomo gave Yuusuke's back an encouraging rub.

"Yuusuke is very special to me," he carried on, comically solemn. "He can come and see me anytime he wants. If you see Yuusuke, you say hi, and you let him through. When you're nice to him, it's like you're being nice to _me._ _Got it?"_

They hummed. Yasutomo raised his hands.

"In five minutes, _the session begins!"_

* * *

Before Yuusuke could ask what "session" meant, Yasutomo began to usher him gently but insistently towards his room, the crowd inching backwards to let them pass.

"Go on in, _Yuusuke,"_ Yasutomo pushed the door open with a grin, then bent down to grab a Bepsi and a recently stashed Pocari Sweat from the cooler. A moment later, he slipped inside and closed the door, placing the drinks on the nightstand while he rummaged through his drawers and Yuusuke clasped his hands awkwardly, staring at the floor in growing perplexity. Right in the middle, Yasutomo had placed a violet floor pillow, a black rice bowl, an economy bottle of hand sanitizer spray, a box of tissues, a trash bin, and a metal tin, its contents currently a mystery.

" _Yuusuke…"_ he felt Yasutomo's lips on his cheek. "Here."

He gathered Yuusuke's hand in his and guided him to the bed, where Yuusuke tucked himself away in a corner painstakingly cushioned with Yasutomo's blanket and pillow. As soon as he settled comfortably, Yasutomo handed him the Pocari Sweat, complete with a paper-wrapped straw.

"A drink…" Yasutomo paused, then patted a stack of choice manga he had just finished piling onto the nightstand. "…and entertainment for Yuusuke."

Yuusuke flashed him an awkward smile. Yasutomo cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead.

"You're about to see some ridiculous shit, but you just chill and enjoy yourself, alright?"

Yuusuke nodded, his looks softened. Yasutomo kissed him twice more, then left for the middle of the room, where he perched himself on the pillow, legs folded and his right hand resting on his knee. He stretched his fingers, then relaxed them, and Yuusuke watched as his pinkie and ring fingers tucked to his palm like a cat's claws.

" _ **SESSION START!"**_ bellowed Yasutomo. With a knock, his first client entered, a pale boy wringing his hands anxiously.

"Youkai," he slipped some change into the rice bowl, then knelt in front of Yasutomo. "Those weird stomach pains are back. I think they've gotten worse…"

Yasutomo squinted. "You brushed your teeth _this time,_ right?"

"I brushed them twice just now!" the boy nodded fervently, then opened wide. Yasutomo leaned close and sniffed, harder and harder. He heaved a sigh.

" _Himura…_ you probably got an ulcer, and you gotta go to a doctor before it _wrecks your stomach, dumbass!"_

"B-But—"

" _ **No buts!**_ Who do you want touching you more, a doctor or a mortician, _huh?!"_

Himura blubbered. Yasutomo handed him a tissue to wipe his eyes.

"Now get out and get an appointment," scolded Yasutomo, one hand whipped at his door. "Don't even come back here without a written diagnosis, _ya hear me?"_

Himura sniffled, but obediently shuffled out and pulled the door closed. Yasutomo rolled his eyes, then grabbed the metal tin and unscrewed the lid, revealing a dark sea of roasted coffee beans. He took a few whiffs and rubbed his nose, then placed the lid back on and set the tin down.

"Idiots, I swear…" he grumbled. _**"NEXT!"**_

* * *

The door creaked open and a couple of girls peered in, twiddling their fingers.

"Youkai! We're here!"

"Hana-chan, Kaga-chan," grinned Yasutomo. "Come on in, then!"

On the bed, Yuusuke grabbed the first manga from the pile on the nightstand and held it to his face. Yasutomo stole a glance at him but said nothing, his attention presently required by a bulging pink furoshiki the girls had brought in front of him. They set their bundle down and untied it, to expose several thin bolts of colorful, patterned fabric, sheets of wish paper, and a ball of sturdy decorative thread.

"Are you making omamori?" Yasutomo eyed their wares. They hummed, grinning.

"Will the Youkai imbue the materials?"

"I promised, didn't I?" Yasutomo grabbed the hand sanitizer and sprayed his curled pinkie and ring fingers, wiping them dry with a tissue. He proceeded to brush his claws over the fabric and the wish paper, then grabbed the ball of thread and rubbed it on his jacket, just over his heart, as though he were shining an apple.

"The materials have been imbued," he announced. The girls giggled, dropped a handful of coins in the rice bowl, then bundled up again.

" _Thank you, Youkai!"_ they waved on their way out, closing the door. Yasutomo glanced to his bed.

" _Yuusuke…_ you're holding that upside down," he murmured, thoroughly amused. Yuusuke bloomed crimson and turned his randomly chosen volume around, pressing it to his hot face. Yasutomo's features mellowed as he crawled over and rubbed Yuusuke's knee until he lowered his cover.

"You've got nothing to worry about, Yuusuke," Yasutomo smiled at him. "Did you know? You're the only one who's ever been allowed on my bed. I even kick my sisters off my bed! You are _that_ _special,_ Yuusuke."

"Really..?" Yuusuke struggled to hide his grin. Yasutomo rose up to steal a kiss.

" _Really._ You hungry?"

"A little, sho.."

Yasutomo pulled his drawer open and fished out a box of strawberry-flavored Pocky.

"Here ya go," he slipped it into Yuusuke's hands. Yuusuke blinked.

"I didn't know you liked sweets," he mumbled. Yasutomo tapped his shoulder.

"I don't," he grinned. "I got these for you."

He then turned back to his station, missing the way Yuusuke pressed a hand to his tinged cheek.

" _ **NEXT!"**_

A tiny girl appeared, lugging a large woven basket.

" _Youkai..!"_ she plonked it on the floor, heaving. "The baking club.. is making.. peanuts monaka… Please bless.. the flour.. and the peanuts..!"

"Yamato-chan, what's _peanuts monaka?"_ Yasutomo scratched his head. "I've never eaten this stuff before."

"Thin.. crunchy.. cookie shells.. and soft.. anko.. and peanut filling…" breathed Yamato. Yasutomo hummed, sanitized his claws, then touched them to each packet.

"Everything has been blessed.. may your peanuts monaka be crunchy and delicious."

More coins clinked into the rice bowl.

"Thank you..!" Yamato hurried off, huffing under the weight of her overstuffed basket. Yasutomo paused.

"Yuusuke…"

"Sho?"

"What the hell are _we_ doing for the cultural festival?"

"We're deciding later today, sho."

" _Ah…_ _ **NEXT!"**_

* * *

Over the following hour and a half, Yuusuke watched Yasutomo go through the same motions over and over again as he sniffed, blessed, and catered to his clients by name, as though he had known their little troubles and anxieties all his life. He later learned that though the ritual had gone through some tweaking, Yasutomo had been holding these sessions since his second week of high school, when word got out that he could smell your soul, and judge you with a single whiff of his near-nothing nose. Once Yasutomo confirmed these rumors, misdemeanors at the dorms drastically reduced not to incur the wrath of the Youkai, who preferred his domain peaceful and free of scum… and if Yuusuke had not been in love with him before, the idea of Arakita Yasutomo as a vigilante of justice would have swayed him in a heartbeat.

They eventually left the dorm together, arm in arm, then hand in hand, and at three o'clock, they let go so they could join the others in the clubroom. There the first-years were charged with the task of deciding the theme of the club's cultural exhibit, while the second-years and third-years were only allowed to contribute additional details. According to Kanzaki-san, themed cafés were traditional, so a food booth was soon agreed on, but as to the menu itself, _well…_

"I'm telling you, it has to be yakisoba noodles," insisted Kinjou.

" _No,_ a sandwich bar," retorted Tadokoro.

"Yakisoba noodles!"

" _A sandwich bar!"_

"Um," Yuusuke scratched his neck, "what do you mean by _sandwich bar,_ Tadokorocchi?"

"Okay, here's the thing," began Tadokoro, gesturing enthusiastically. "First, you take the special bread from my parents' bakery, and then you fill it with whatever you want, and eat as much of it as you want! What do you think? Sounds both delicious _and fun,_ right?"

"Sounds like you just want an excuse to eat bread," Yasutomo twirled a finger in his ear. Tadokoro scoffed.

"Oh yeah?! Then Kinjou's just as guilty! He's _obsessed_ with yakisoba!"

"I'll never give up on yakisoba," Kinjou crossed his arms.

"Well, I won't give up either!" huffed Tadokoro, the two locked in a staring contest. Yuusuke groaned.

" _Jeez!_ If you're just going to fight over yakisoba and bread, then why not make it _yakisoba bread?!"_

"… _ **THAT'S IT!"**_ Kinjou and Tadokoro gasped in unison. Yasutomo grinned.

"Yuusuke, that's _genius,"_ he nudged the other, who rubbed his nose, cheeks tinged.

"A yakisoba bread stand, then," concluded Shiraiwa. "And who will be in charge of what?"

"I'll handle the bread, of course," declared Tadokoro.

"I'll be in charge of green laver," said Kinjou. He received amused looks. Shiraiwa chuckled.

"So Tadokoro's bread, and Kinjou's garnish," he nodded, his grin fading as he added, "And you two..?"

Yuusuke's shoulders tensed, but Yasutomo replied,

"Makishima and I will take care of the turnout," without hesitation. Shiraiwa gave him a look.

" _Arakita-kun,_ I don't think—"

"Alright!"chimed in the captain, sufficiently intrigued. "Do your best!"

" _Oh, we will,"_ smirked Yasutomo.

* * *

The rest was soon decided, too. The third-years volunteered to prepare the booth and accessories; the second-years filled the gaps in cooking and assembly… and to make things more interesting, the seniors proposed that the first-years wear matching dresses left from a previous festival, "to help with the turnout," as they jokingly put it. Embarrassing though the idea was, the first-years accepted their terms; Yuusuke, however, could not look anyone in the eye for the rest of the meeting.

" _I don't want to wear a dress,"_ he breathed to Yasutomo once they were alone again, face scrunched up. Yasutomo pulled him close.

"It'll be okay, Yuusuke," he whispered, rubbing circles over the other's back. "At least you'll look good in a dress.. the rest of us are _dogs_ compared to you."

Yuusuke didn't so much as smile. Sensing bitterness, Yasutomo hugged him tighter.

"Yuusuke… _trust me._ It'll be _fine._ After all, I'm the _Youkai,_ remember..?"

Yuusuke pulled back, eyes wide. Yasutomo winked.

"You just leave _everything_ to _me."_

That evening, Yasutomo walked into the kitchen with six cartons of eggs, at which point he commanded the attention of the entire dorm, both buildings included.

" _Listen up, you bastards!"_ he wagged his spatula. Hungry as they were, the crowd hushed in an instant. "As you know, the cultural festival's coming, and the road racing club will participate, which means that I will also participate. So come Saturday, Yuusuke and I will be standing around in the school yard in matching dresses, holding a sign to advertise our booth."

"Why would you wear _matching dresses,_ Youkai?" asked one of the boys. Yasutomo shrugged.

"Because our seniors are perverts, I guess. _But that's not important!_ The important thing is that our booth will be selling _yakisoba bread,_ and _your job_ is to spread the word to everyone eligible, and _buy all of our yakisoba bread."_

Murmurs broke out. Yasutomo raised his spatula. They simmered down.

" _ **Now!**_ I know for a fact that the food's gonna be good, _but,_ because I'm a generous guy, _I'll make you a deal._ For those who buy our yakisoba bread, and show it to me as proof of their purchase, I will bestow _one small blessing_ per person, _free of charge."_

"What kind, Youkai?!" a girl raised her hand. Yasutomo sighed.

" _General._ Will last a few hours or up to a day, depending on your karma."

Their murmurs intensified. Yasutomo grinned.

" _Now let's eat, you bastards!"_

On Saturday, true to his word, Yasutomo and Yuusuke appeared in the school yard, back to back, with Yuusuke holding the sign in front of himself to cover as much of his dress as possible. Behind him, Yasutomo sprayed sanitizer on his hands.

After several days of carpentry work, assembly, and test runs, the road racing club's yakisoba bread supply depleted within an hour, with one bread prepared every forty seconds on average.

" _You have been blessed._ Enjoy your yakisoba bread," murmured Yasutomo, grinning triumphantly as his queue wound about for miles.


	5. V

" _That's so cool..!"_ the first-years gasped in chorus. Teshima and Aoyagi, on the other hand, stared at Yasutomo in painful recollection.

"Is that why our café sold out so fast..?" mumbled Aoyagi. Yasutomo tensed.

"D-Don't look at me like that!"

"Arakita-san… _what did you do?"_ squinted Teshima.

" _Nothing!_ _**Listen!**_ Yuusuke was upset about the whole dresses thing, so I pulled out all the stops to get it over with as soon as possible! Then, in second year, someone asked me what we'd do, I just said café, I'd be making some drinks, and that's…"

He froze mid-sentence. _"…all I said.."_

* * *

"I wondered why we were so popular.. So it wasn't all our hard work after all," breathed Teshima. "It was the _Youkai,_ making our drinks.."

Yasutomo gritted his teeth.

"I need some air," he sprang up, his wrist seized by Yuusuke.

"Are you done, sho..?"

"Done making an ass of myself? Done with everything?! _You gotta be more specific, Yuusuke!"_ snapped Yasutomo. Yuusuke sighed.

"I meant my _hair."_

Yasutomo's features went numb. "Oh… Yeah. I'm done. Show it off, or.. pull it apart, if you wanna."

Yuusuke squeezed his wrist. "Come back soon, okay?"

Yasutomo hummed, then left, expression blank.

* * *

"Are you seriously mad at him?" Yuusuke quirked a brow. "It's not like he can turn this Youkai thing on and off! It's a blessing _and_ a curse, sho!"

Teshima pursed his lips, but Aoyagi slipped a hand onto his shoulder.

"I still enjoyed it, Junta. The café," he said softly.

" _Aoyagi…"_ mumbled Teshima. His lips twitched. "It.. was kinda cool, wasn't it…"

"He even dressed up for you, remember..?" chided Yuusuke. Aoyagi nodded.

"Dressed up as _what?"_ asked Onoda, surprisingly eager.

"I.. _think_ we'll save that story for later," said Teshima at last, his smile worn, but finally genuine.

* * *

Eventually, Yasutomo reappeared, to find everyone in a half circle around Yuusuke.

"What's going on?" he asked, apprehensive. Yuusuke smiled.

"Come and show me off already," he pointed to the back of his head. Yasutomo groaned.

"Show you off..? What are you, a little kid?" he trudged over, striking a half-hearted pose as Yuusuke turned around.

" _Tada…"_ sighed Yasutomo, but the others gasped in awe.

"Is that a _spider motif?!"_ screeched Naruko. Yuusuke laughed.

"Yasutomo once said if I grew out my hair, he'd learn how to style it for me, sho."

"That's _incredible…"_ whistled Teshima.

Despite himself, Yasutomo smiled.


End file.
